


Homecoming

by Mercyfulkate



Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Death, F/M, Ghuleh, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 04:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12622856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercyfulkate/pseuds/Mercyfulkate
Summary: Prequel to Ghuleh.





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> I love pineapple on pizza. Fight me.

I just needed to get out of the house. Matthew and I have been fighting for weeks. Deciding I am in need of some fresh air I jump to my feet, cramming my feet into my sneakers. I don’t even bother loosening the laces. Pinching the middle of my shirt in between my fingers, I pull the fabric a few times making sure there’s no ash on it.

Walking over to my dresser I gently tap out the cherry from the joint so I can finish it later. 

A cool breeze dances in through the French doors of my room, bringing a calming hint of lavender from the bush outside. Matthew and I may argue a lot, But I’m still very grateful for him renting out the room to me. It was nowhere near what he should be asking for it, but sometimes he had a saintly way about him. His aunt and uncle just recently passed away and he can’t stand being the only one here in the house. This was what most, if not all, of our arguments were about. Matthew didn’t like to leave the house. He most certainly didn’t like it when I was out of the house either. He always wanted to stay in, watch a movie, read a book, or sometimes he’d just lock himself up in that room of his, doing God knows what..

The times he did have people over it was usually late at night. Matthew would treat me more as a roommate around them. So I never really stuck around when they were present, either opting to go to my room or leave altogether. Those were the only times he was not bothered by my absence. Grabbing my jacket on the way out of my room, I shrug it on patting the left breast pocket to make sure I still have some cash left from last night’s tips. I walk down the hall, standing directly in front of Matthew’s door. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go out for a short walk, I’ll be back soon.”

No reply. 

“Oh, come on Matthew! Don’t be like that! Tell you what, how about I go pick up some fruit from your favorite little stand, Huh? I’ll see you soon!”

I make my way back down the hall towards the front door sparing one more look towards Matthew’s room before I’m outside. There’s no need to lock up. As I reach the corner I pull out a pack of cigarettes, I bring it to my ear shaking it a few times to hear what’s left. I promised myself I’d quit. Or at least cut back. But with everything I’ve got going on, smoking is the last of my worries. Someone once told me that if you are going to do things like that, that are bad for your health, the best thing to do is not worry about it. 

“When there is dis ease in the body, you welcome disease.” 

It was easy enough to forget it and continue to smoke. Opening the pack, I see there are four left. I place one gently in between my lips, lifting my lighter up, I torch the end, inhaling deeply. 

Fuck, that’s great. 

The parking lot the stand is in is rather busy. A steady flow of cars and people fluttering around. School had just let out two weeks ago leaving the streets constantly crowded. On top of that, the summer courses would start soon making it even worse. 

 

As I get to the stop light my cigarette is dead so I crush it on the bottom on my shoe, pocketing it until I can toss it out properly. 

I lightly jog across the street as the signal indicates it’s safe to do so. I can’t help but think about Matthew. He has been so hot and cold lately. He’s been having more of his friends over which is huge. It’s good for him, but I can see it wearing him down. He isn’t used to being so social. He got in an argument last week and I think that’s why he’s locked himself up in that room of his again. One step forward, two steps back.

I wave at Randy as I walk in, casually looking around I’m relieved that it isn’t crowded today. I fucking hate being rushed. I’m one of those people who are fucking picky when it comes to their produce. 

“Elena! It’s good to see you! No Matthew today?” I can’t help but laugh. 

“You know Matthew. He’s in one of his moods again. I haven’t really seen much of him in two days. Any suggestions on what will cheer him up?” I call out over my shoulder as I walk towards my favorite section. 

“Elena, you do know that Matthew hates pineapple right?” Startled, I jump, turning towards Randy.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can anyone hate pineapple?! I Bet he’d like it on pizza-

“Don’t ever bring up pineapple pizza in front of Matthew, unless you are ready to fight him.”

“Alright, Randy, lead the way. What would he want?” I say as I turn around and gesture towards the other side of the small fruit stand. A slight blush rises from my neck to my cheeks as I think about the shit storm I could have started had I brought the pineapple home as an olive branch. 

Randy places his hand on my back and he guides us near the register, where the oranges are displayed. 

“This be your ticket out of the dog house. If you really want him to consider your apology, or whatever this is, oranges are your best bet.” I grab three and place them in a bag before I fill the rest with some other fruit, cherries, bananas, and a honey dew melon. If I can’t have pineapple in the house I’m having the melon. 

I thank Randy for being the life saver he is and make my way outside as three kids walk in, pushing and shoving each other. 

I make my way to the edge of the parking lot, popping a few cherries in my mouth, I savor their sweetness before I spit the pits into my hand placing them into my pocket. I don’t know where Randy gets his produce but it’s amazing. I close my eyes and lift my head up towards the sky, enjoying the slight breeze and the tiny bit of sun that pokes out from behind the clouds. June gloom. I fucking love days like these. 

I get to the cross walk just as the signal indicates its safe for me to cross. God, it’s so beautiful out. I look both ways before stepping out into the street. The screeching of tires grabs my attention and I turn my head towards the horrendous sound. Fuck. 

 

The car hits me, sending me and all my groceries flying into the air. I don’t feel a thing from the impact of the car or me slamming ruthlessly onto the asphalt. But I can hear it. And I’ll never un hear it. It's quiet now. Nothing. No cars, no kids, nothing. I slowly try to wiggle my fingers and toes but nothing. Fuck. I try again but with my neck this time. Nothing. I can feel the tears falling from my eyes. Fuck. I try to blink them back but they keep coming. I can taste the blood in my mouth and with that I suddenly regain the ability to hear, but I disregard it. I try to wiggle my fingers and toes again and find they do indeed move this time. As I go to turn my head someone calls out, stopping me.

“I saw the whole thing! The man from the produce stand just called an ambulance..” 

God, he’s gorgeous. He chuckles, tears welling in his eyes. Did I say that aloud? 

“Stop talking, you need to take it easy, please?” He sounds desperate. 

“Only if you hold my hand. I’m not.. scared. I’m just cold.” As I mention feeling cold he quickly pulls his jacket off, and lays it over me, leaving one arm free of its warmth he holds my hand in his, the other across my cheek. His scent makes me slightly dizzy. I close my eyes to find my balance.

 

“No, open your eyes! You need to keep them open. Just look at me. I promise help will be here soon!” I open my eyes and stare into his beautiful mismatched eyes. 

“Your eyes-“ I can’t finish my sentence because I start to cough. I can taste more blood. I swallow it. Alarm crosses his face at my mention of his eyes. As if no one has ever noticed them. 

“What did I tell you about being quiet?!” he’s starting to panic. I must look bad. I try to focus all my attention on him. I need to remember him, his face. He’s important to me. I start to lose control of my eyes and they fidget back and forth before rolling back into my head. No, I can’t. This can’t be happening! What the fuck?! Another cough but this time the blood comes up, I can feel it fall across my lips and cheeks. 

“Elena!” My eyes right themselves as he calls my name. How does know my name? I stare up at him, startled by the electricity I can feel between us. How do I know him?! He is openly crying now. His eyes are so bright, so full of life. He leans down kissing me on my lips, not caring that he is covered in my blood now. He’s gorgeous. Even in pain. 

“You’re going to be fine! Say it! Say you’re fine! Tell me I’m not too late! Elena! Please?!” The last thing I can feel are his tears as they fall across my face. He is the last thing I see as I feel myself slowly fall into the earth. I welcome the intense warmth. 

My back hits something soft. I sit up, taking a look around the room I have descended to. I make to stand and as soon as my feet hit the ground I can tell I’m not alone. 

“Welcome back, Elena.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn't much. But I when I wrote Ghuleh I knew I wanted to write a smaller prequel involving one of her deaths. I may or may not write the others. I'm posting this now because I know myself well enough that if i don't do it now it will sit on my computer forever unfinished. Also, I'm hoping that I will now be able to focus on my other stories. I have a few started already.


End file.
